Knowing the possible reasons for this were endless, Ivan didn’t bother with guesses or plausible theories. He did what he always did and turned to the facts.
There were no records of her having given birth, and she’d had no run-ins with the law. She’d never been married, and up until the last grades had been entered onto her eleventh-grade transcripts, her academic record had been more than a little impressive.
Not that he was surprised. Listening to her today, he could tell she was an intelligent woman.
Intelligent. Pretty. Sexy. Adorable.
Yes, Cera was every one of those things. She was also one of the saddest women he’d ever met. And the more he uncovered about the guarded brunette, the more Ivan found himself wanting to make her smile.
What happened, Cera? What happened to you at seventeen that caused you to drop out of school?
Momentarily abandoning his search for her academic records, Ivan returned to the original program he’d used. The one designed to find police reports by name and date.
Since Cera had shared all she’d been dealing with since Durango, he’d initially entered a starting date of two years ago. Enough for a safe, but not too broad, cushion.
But now…
Ivan’s fingers worked to change the starting date to one much earlier. Using the date on her birth certificate, some quick mental math told him she was currently twenty-eight. Seventeen would have been eleven years ago, so he played it safe and went with twelve.
He re-ran his original reports and waited. His stomach fell when a new window popped up on his screen. Tension returning, he reached for his mouse and clicked, the move revealing yet another folder.
When Ivan opened this one, his pulse raced a little faster. Because the digital letterhead read “Oklahoma City Police Department”.
He already knew from a previous search specifically looking for any sort of criminal record—juvenile or otherwise—that Cera hadn’t been in any sort of legal trouble. So the only way her name should’ve been connected to a police report from back when she was a teenager was if she was either a witness or a victim.
And neither choice boded well for the possible motive of her stalker.
She said she’d told him everything. Looked him square in the eyes and swore she had no idea who could behind the notes, and texts, and destruction of her things.
She fucking lied.
With his back straight and his back teeth clenched tightly, Ivan opened the file and started to read. It only took a handful of seconds to realize just how wrong he’d been.
Cera had been a victim when she younger, but not of the same person stalking her now. And she hadn’t been the only one.
The first name listed at the top of the police report was Charlotte Davidson, the woman listed as Cera’s mother on her birth certificate. According to the report, Charlotte—along with her live-in boyfriend—had been shot and killed while sleeping in bed.
Jesus.
Ivan’s chest grew tighter with each new word he read.
It was a case of domestic violence. A man named James Stiegler, listed on the report as Charlotte Davidson’s ex, had broken into their home in the middle of the night and shot the woman and her boyfriend dead. When he was finished with them, he went to another bedroom.
Cera’s bedroom.
Ah, hell.
Bile churned in his gut as he discovered it only got worse. After killing the first two, Stiegler burst into Cera’s room and threatened her and her little sister at gunpoint. According to the officer on scene, Cera had heard Stiegler enter the house illegally and called nine-one-one. She then woke her little sister—the girl’s name had been Callie—and the two hid beneath the bed.
But Stiegler found them. He found them, ripped Callie away from Cera, and shot Cera in the chest. Then, before the officer could stop him, the piece of shit shot and killed nine-year-old Callie.
The officer opened fire, killing Stiegler where he stood. But the damage had already been done.
Holy shit.
Ivan sat back in his chair and raked his fingers through his short blond locks. She’d been shot. Fuckingshot!
Pulling in a few deep breaths, he forced himself to return to the task at hand. Ugly or not, he needed to know all he could in order to help Cera to the best of his abilities.